


What the Hell am I Doing Here? [I Don't Belong Here]

by i_wont_fall_asleep



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Beach Divorce Never Happened, Gen, M/M, Mutant Husbands, Parenthood, Protective Erik, Running Away, Telepathy, and erik and charles opened the school together, and it's sort of dark and sad so be warned, charles is a perfect supporting spouse, erik speaking german, erik's old angry opinions come back to bite him, fathers!cherik, metalkenetics, remorseful erik, so charles can still walk btw, switching POV, there is a healthy amount of charles/erik so don't worry, um so a lot of this is about their youngest daughter who is human
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-24
Updated: 2014-06-24
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:55:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1836784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_wont_fall_asleep/pseuds/i_wont_fall_asleep
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When the whole house was asleep and silent, she would stare for hours at her reflection, willing her appearance to change into someone [Erik] would be proud of to call his daughter. "</p>
            </blockquote>





	What the Hell am I Doing Here? [I Don't Belong Here]

**Author's Note:**

> okay so um self-beta'd so any mistakes are my own stupidity
> 
> oh and erik never fired the missals back at those ships at the end of XMFC bc Charles was all like "ily bby" and stared at him with those adorable blue eyes and Erik was like "damn, okay u got me" 
> 
> also, the science behind how Amalie is human is beyond me so you should ask a scientist/doctor or something or ask Hank bc he would totally know
> 
> title take from radiohead's 'creep'

The first time Amalie Xavier-Lehnsherr realized she was different was on her fifth birthday.

Her older brother, Phillip was trying to shift to look like the small bluebird that was nested in the large tree whose thick, green leaves they were all currently shaded under, while her older sister Laura (Laura and Phillip were twins, both eight years old) tried to reignite the candles on the pink-frosted cake that sat a few feet away.

As Amalie gazed around the mansion’s sprawling lawn, she took in the sight of her Abba swirling the metal cutlery to clink together to make a soft whimsical noise, earning delighted shrieks from the other children, flicking her eyes over to her daddy whose head was thrown back and laughing boisterously at the irritated glare on Auntie Raven’s from having made her smack her own face into the slice of cake she was holding in her blue, scaled hands.

All around Amalie was a spectacle of mutants using their extraordinary talents, relishing in a place where they all fit in and belonged; something she didn’t, couldn’t share in because she was a hundred percent ordinary, plain, boring, just like she was a hundred percent human. She had no special x-gene that allowed her to float or manipulate glass.

Her chest suddenly felt odd, like something was sitting directly on it, and her stomach felt sick just like the time she got the flu and couldn’t play outside with the other children for a whole week, and she felt like wanting to be very far away.

She stared up at the large, looming house- that suddenly felt strange to her now that she realized she was the _only_ human who actually lived there- her gaze moved again back to stare at her family; they all were smiling and basking in the warm sunshine, laughing and enjoying having an event to just play with their powers.

Amalie had never felt more alone than in that moment.

X

Over the next several years she grew more accustomed to that loneliness, a feeling that dug into her heart and made a home there, cementing itself there every time she was reminded of how different she was.

Like the day her daddy sat her down and told her she wouldn’t be attending classes with all of her mutant friends but instead to be tutored privately.

“B-but why?” Her voice had trembled, as she had been looking forward to being in one of her Auntie Raven’s classes.

“Amalie, you know how Phillip is able to turn into animals?”

She nodded; her brother had been shifting since as long as she could remember.

“And you know how your sister can set objects on fire with her mind?”

Amalie giggled, “Yes,” remembering the time Laura was throwing a tantrum over having to eat her broccoli and had accidentally set her plate of food on fire.

“You see, they are going to school to learn how to control their special abilities. But you’re special in different ways and so you’ll be taught by someone different. Do you understand, love?”

Amalie had nodded and her daddy had hugged her but the only thing she registered was the word _different_ ringing loudly and incessant in her mind and her heart becoming heavier.

Or when she was seven and saw a couple of the older kids jumping from one of the trees out in the yard and flying with their beautiful wings, all of them laughing and shouting happily. Amalie looked out at their carefree faces and felt an ache of yearning.

Later, when she was supposed to be in bed, she had climbed up high, scraping her hands on the rough bark on the ascend, counting to three in German like her Abba had taught her before leaping and for a moment she felt a weightlessness that she hadn’t felt in what seemed like since that birthday party, two years prior.

She felt free.

But of course she didn’t have wings or a supersonic boom and so she hurtled toward the ground, a high pitched scream the only thing that alerted her fathers before she hit the dirt. Erik had sprinted out to the crumpled form of his daughter, where she was whimpering sadly; her arm was twisted unnaturally.

“Erik!” Charles was yelling and coming up fast upon the scene, “Is she all right?”

Erik carefully picked Amalie up, “Her arm’s broken, but she is alive.”

Charles looked up at the branch his daughter was previously perched on and then at her, “What were you doing up in the tree, darling?”

Her words were broken up by sobs, “I-I saw some of the other k-kids flying and I want-ted to do it too.”

Charles and Erik shared a long look. At the same time, Hank had found them, following Charles’ telepathic instructions to bring equipment to set her arm and medicine for the pain.

Afterwards, Erik carried her to her bed, tucking her in securely and brushing her hair off of her forehead. She was about to fall asleep when he spoke.

“Amalie?”

Her blue eyes blinked open sleepily, “Yes, Abba?”

“Sometimes, Mausi, there are going to be things that the other children can do, that you won’t be able to. But just because you are a bit different, that doesn’t mean it is anything bad, alright?”

“Alright.” She said, although she felt as far from alright as possible, as if instead she had swallowed a hundred cotton balls; her eyes stung fiercely with unshed tears.

He kissed her softly on the head before leaving the room. That night Amalie dreamt of a never-ending fall with a soundtrack of the word _different_ on repeat.

The same thing continued to happen. Amalie would do or say something and she would always be reminded that she was differentdifferentdifferent _-_ which was hard to deal with, knowing that she wasn’t anything special. Sure, her fathers always qualified their statements with “You’re special in your own way” but that’s what parents were supposed to say.

And so for a period she stopped trying to be anything different, no more trying to fly or trying read her brother’s mind or trying to heal the animals that had been hit on the road.

Instead she went to her daily lessons with her tutor, Mrs. Mathes, and holed herself up in the highest point of the mansion, reading tales of extraordinary heroes who no one would ever call different or boring or plain. Amalie stopped playing with the other children who lived on the property- it was too hard to constantly be faced with her ordinariness and instead took to exploring the several unused rooms within the home, making up mysteries and adventures of her own.

That empty, lonely, feeling never ceased its continual throb, sometimes it was so present and painful that she struggled to breathe but she never told anyone.

She continued on in this way for the next few years, burdened by her difference from those she loved dearest. It was lonesome and haunting but she survived and it was enough just to get to be near all of those wondrous people.

It was enough, it was okay until she overheard her Auntie Raven speaking with her daddy about how Erik-her Abba- hated humans.

X

It was a drafty September evening and Amalie was shuffling sleepily by her daddy’s study to fetch herself a glass of water when her Auntie Raven’s voice rang clear out into the hall.

“Oh, come on, Charles. You know as well as I do that Erik dislikes humans-at best. Do you think sending him to the summit by himself is wise?”

Amalie jolted to a stop.

“That’s not true, Raven. Not anymore, he’ll be fine.”

She heard Raven snort, “He distrusts them all and thinks they’re just waiting for the right time to strike against us. I don’t think that stretches too far beyond dislike, Charles.”

Charles remained painfully silent.

Amalie forgot about her water and her sleepiness, instead turning toward the staircase and running silently up to her favorite spot. She felt the tears on her cheeks before she realized she was crying, the excruciating sort that comes from trying to keep quiet but feeling so much raw anguish. Her throat burned and she couldn’t get enough air in her lungs and she swore she was dying.

Her Abba hated her.

That thought alone ripped her apart, shredding the tentative survival she had built for herself when she realized she was different.

Because this, this was a whole different level of turmoil. It was one thing for Amalie to hate herself- because that’s what she grasped in that moment in between sobs, that she loathed herself with a darkness that she didn’t, _couldn’t_ understand- but to have her own _father_ be so disgusted by her was more than she could bear.

During the next several weeks she talked to Sean and Alex, Hank and any other mutant who actually would talk to her, about Erik, slyly prying information about his feelings on humans.

She quickly decided that she would have rather not known, would have preferred to keep his contempt a vague concept rather than actually words and sentences and realities.

Apparently Erik had once been dead-set against humans, vowing that they were vicious, lesser, untrustworthy creatures and that mutants were the next, better, evolutionary step, going so far as to almost inciting a war against them.

Amalie sat on the floor of Sean’s room, listening to him and Alex discuss Erik.

“Um, I think he called humans spiteful cretins once.” Sean pondered.

“No, you idiot. He said they deserved to be spat on like the cretins they are.” Alex retorted.

Amalie had left the room shortly after that, unable to hear more. She retreated back into the peak in the mansion and in that tall, drafty, dark, dank room she promised that she would try harder, she would become a mutant, just like Laura and Phillip and Raven and Daddy. She wouldn’t be human and Abba would love her again.

X

She would watch at how her siblings interacted with her Abba, at the things they did that made him smile wide or laugh loudly or shine with pride and tried to mimic them to her best ability. She did her chores quickly and homework efficiently without complaint, spending her free time perfecting her German or doing extra cleaning.

Then, in the dead of the night, when the whole house was asleep and silent, she would stare for hours at her reflection, willing her appearance to change into someone her Abba would be proud of to call his daughter. When that proved fruitless, she turned her attention to telepathy, to manipulating water, to growing wings, to becoming anything besides her pathetic, human self.

She continued on like this, but it never felt like enough. She was no closer to becoming a mutant then when she started and deep down she knew she was stuck with her humanity, that she would never change.

Every time Erik looked at her, she felt his simmering disappointment and resentment at having a human for a child; each smile he gave her seemed false and put-upon, as if her whole existence was no more than a bothersome thing, like a fly to be swatted or a duty to be done.

After a completely exhaustible dinner of Amalie smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, of eating third helpings of string beans, of rushing to clear the table before Erik could even move his hand, she flopped down on her bed and watched the deep gray clouds that were rolling in, signaling an oncoming storm.

Gazing out at the tumultuous sky and hearing her siblings and her fathers’ happy voices coming from below she understood that she would never find peace, not here, in a house that hadn’t felt like a home in too many years, anyway. She would spend every moment of her life trying to prove that she was good enough to be the daughter of two of the best mutants, when in truth, she knew she never would be.

Amalie sprung up, new purpose pushing her into action. She pulled out one of the suitcases she kept her dolls in, empting it out before filling it back up, but this time with her clothing and her two favorite books. Grabbing her raincoat, she stuffed in all the money she kept in her piggy bank into one of the pockets and yanked down her scarf, bundling up tightly and took a hold of her bag, creeping silently out her window and down the siding, landing with a soft exhale on the soft, green grass.

She walked stealthily, using the shadows to hide her, only turning back once to stare at the mansion. Maybe they’d have another baby, and it would be another mutant and they would be happy again. Maybe they’d forget about her eventually.

She didn’t know how she felt about that.

Amalie sighed and continued toward the edge of the grounds which were bordered by a dense forest that then opened up to a small in-between-town that had a bus station that she had seen when Auntie Raven would take her and Laura to the shops. Hopefully she had enough to get a ticket far away before anyone noticed she was gone.

The problem was, however, that although she knew the forest fairly well for how often she used to play in it, it looked completely different in the dark and she hadn’t thought to bring a flashlight. She trekked deeper into the trees as the first few raindrops sprinkled down and was utterly loss by the time it was pouring, drenching her down to the bone. The harsh wind snapped angrily at her exposed face and hands. Her suitcase was growing rapidly heavier as its cloth exterior absorbed the water, making her arm sore but she continued on through the trees.

She couldn’t tell how long she had been walking and she was tired and absolutely miserable, the muddied earth causing her to stumble constantly until she fell, her suitcase slipping from her grasp and spilling everywhere, ruining her clothes and her books.

Amalie curled up on her side and cried, angry that she was lost, angry that she wasn’t a mutant, angry at so many things. And she was so cold and so exhausted, she just fell asleep there on that lumpy, wet dirt.

X

Charles tried not to keep specific tabs on his Laura, Phillip and Amalie, or any of the other mutant students as he wanted them to have their privacy (and as he had learned from too many awkward encounters when he and Raven were teenagers, when he would rush into her room, believing her to be in danger when in actuality she was just engaged in-uh- _activities_ with a boy) although he couldn’t help having their presence in the back of his consciousness as they were his children; especially Laura, Phillip, and Amalie, who shone bright and vibrant like individual lights in his mind, similar to Erik’s own dazzling metallic radiance.

But it was after dinner and he and Erik were playing chess while Laura and Phillip were off with the other children, and he did a quick check on all of the children, specifically to make sure Angel and Alex weren’t up to any of their usual mischief, when he realized that Amalie’s presence was far dimmer than someone who was just up in her bedroom should have been.

“Charles, what is it?” Erik queried as he noticed the disgruntled look on his husband’s face.

The telepath didn’t respond, instead trying to actively feel for his daughter in the house but couldn’t.

“Amalie.” He exhaled the name softly, barely above a whisper.

“Amalie?” Erik scooted closer, putting his hands on Charles’ knees, “Charles is everything alright?”

He shook his head and stared, frightened at his husband, “She isn’t in the house, Erik.”

This caused the other man to glance quickly out the window where it was hellishly storming out, making his face pale, and asked, “Are you sure?”

“Positive, her conscious isn’t as close as it should be.”

“Scheiße,” Erik cursed and stood up abruptly, the game in front of them completely forgotten, “Can you find where she is?”

Charles stood up too, “She’s out in the forest but-”

“But what?” Erik’s voice sounded strained, and the metal in the room was starting to rattle anxiously.

“But for some reason her consciousness is slowed down, far more than someone who is actively awake or conscious would be.”

At that the metal chess set they had been using crumpled in on itself and Erik sprinted from the room out the front door, leaving Charles to communicate with him in his head.

 _Where is she exactly, Charles?_ Erik hissed, the rain pelting his skin and the loud crack of thunder doing nothing to ease his nerves.

 _Keep going straight,_ and softer _I’m sure she is fine, Erik._

But he could sense the uncertainty and worry underneath his husband’s assurance, _Damnit, what would she be doing out here?_

_I do not know, love._

Now Erik was reaching out with his own powers, trying to feel for the distinct piece of metal, a bracelet each of his children wore as a way of him to be able to find them if anything ever happened, (‘Erik always the worrier’ Charles had teased playfully when he caught him crafting the jewelry) feeling out for Amalie’s rose-copper band that she wore as an anklet.

He felt a tug coming up close to him and to his left, pushing his already dead-sprint faster, reaching his hands out trying to bring her closer, the panic welling up inside him far too similar to that day with Shaw and a coin all those years ago.

“Amalie!” he called out, “Amalie, where are you?”

Suddenly he sensed the metal clearly, pulling at his core and he stumbled into a small clearing. He looked around and spotted his daughter’s pink and yellow suitcase spilled and soiled on the ground next to Amalie herself, who was lying so still.

He slammed himself into the dirt next to her body, fear and dread seizing him, until he realized she was breathing, if a bit slow, causing him to almost sob in thankfulness.

 _I found her, Charles, she’s alright, she’s just asleep._ He projected out.

He could hear the audible sigh of relief coming from his husband, _Oh thank god- that would account for the slowed consciousness, then. Bring her home, Erik._

Erik slid his hands underneath her sleeping form, and hauled her up into his arms, _Get as many blankets as you can find and something warm for her to drink, too._

He felt rather than heard his husband’s confirmation as he walked back toward the house, holding his daughter close to his body in a double effort to share his heat and shield her from the cold. Walking through the door, his daughter’s shivering intensified, wracking her tiny body uncontrollably as her senses grasped how cold she was.

Charles came into the room, piles of blankets and quilts laid held in his arms, “I also brought her clothes to change into,” throwing a pair of purple flannel pajamas at his husband.

Erik ignored the clothing, instead immediately set to stripping Amalie of the soaked clothes, pausing only once to remove his own wet shirt, before pressing her back to his chest to help her warm up, “It’s better to keep skin-to-skin contact,” he looked up to notice Charles’ unsure expression, continuing, “Back in-in the camps, it’s what the mothers would do for their babies when it got too cold.”

Charles nodded grimly, “Okay, let’s bring her near the fire. It’s warmer and Hank’s already in there ready to look her over.”

And sure enough, the blue-furred Beast was sitting in front of the fire, several tools surrounding him as they walked into the room. Hank made a motion to reach for the child but the hard, steely look in Erik’s eyes said that was an already lost battle, instead checking Amalie’s vitals from her spot in her father’s arms.

When the examination was done, Charles draped a thick, soft blanket around his daughter and husband, “So, is she alright?”

Hank took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose before replacing them on his face once more, “It seems as though she has mild hypothermia, nothing serious all things considered. The most important thing is warming her up- so continue with the skin-to-skin contact, the blankets and make sure she drinks plenty of warm liquids and she should be fine.”

“Oh thank god,” Charles visibly sagged with relief for the second time that night, “Thank you, Hank.”

Hank smiled softly, “Of course, Professor” before leaving the room.

Erik sat on one of the plush couches that had been pushed closer to the roaring heat, shucking off his boots. He cuddled Amalie closer against his chest whilst pulling several of the blankets Charles had brought over on top of them.

He kissed the top of her head, and whispered, “You scared us, Mausi.”

Charles, who had removed his own shirt, came and sat under the blankets, positioning himself as close to his daughter without actually taking her from Erik’s hands where she was dozing, his hand coming up to rub gently at her back.

“Do-,” Erik paused before continuing, “Do you remember when she was first born?”

“Yes, and I see why you think of that now.”

When Amalie was nearing thirty weeks in utero, Raven, who had been surrogating for them, began getting ill, vomiting that was far more violent than morning sickness, fevers that lasted several days, and no one could figure out why. Eventually it got so bad that an emergency cesarean was called for and for a few hours it was uncertain as whether either she or the baby would live. Later on, after Amalie had been deemed completely human, Hank decided it was probably her body rejecting Raven’s since she didn’t have the mutation.

“She was so small, Charles, and I remember Hank putting her in my arms, and she was completely swallowed up by that baby blanket.” Erik mused, his eyes never leaving the face of his daughter, “He said that often a parent’s heartbeat or touch would help the child to survive.”

“I can still remember that look on your face, love. I had never seen you look so frightened.”

At this Erik looked up, his eyes swirling with emotion as he locked eyes with his husband, “Because I don’t think I ever had been. Laura and Phillip, they were both easy pregnancies and deliveries and I-I had been so sure this wouldn’t be any different. I have never felt so powerless, Charles; I could bend all the metal in the world and none of it would have ensured that she lived.”

“But she did, Erik, and she is fine now.”

“I-” Erik was about to respond, but a small sound from the form in his arms took their attention.

Amalie’s eyes were fluttering open, trying to acclimate to the bright light coming off of the fire.

“Hello, darling, how are you feeling?” Charles asked, his voice low and soothing.

Amalie scratched out, “D-daddy?”

“Yes, it’s me, dove, and your Abba’s here, too.” at her father’s words Amalie’s eyes widened so fast that it would’ve been comical if it wasn’t due to the sudden fear in her features.

At once the young girl began weeping and wriggling, trying to free herself from her father’s embrace, much to Erik’s and Charles’ confused horror.

“Please, let me go! I’m so sorry, Abba, please I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” Her voice was harried and her words were slurring.

“Mausi, what didn’t you mean to do? Go into the forest? Did someone take you?” At that thought, Erik looked visibly angrier, the metal in the room shaking in agitation.

But it seemed as if she didn’t even hear him, “I’m sorry, Abba, I tried, I tried so hard not to be different- to be special for you.”

Erik was shocked, “Amalie, you are plenty special-”

“No! Not like you or Daddy or Laura or Phillip, I’m-I’m just a human.” Her words became unintelligible as she erupted into more violent sobs.

“Charles.” Erik pleaded, a single look passed between them and he understood.

The telepath dove into his daughter’s brain, trying to calm her thoughts; instead his was bombarded with flashes of images, a jumbled mess of real and imaginary:

FLASH!

Amalie standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, trying to shift her skin like Auntie Raven or Phillip.

FLASH!

 Amalie staring at spoons and forks until her mind felt achy at the effort of trying to bend them.

FLASH!

Amalie working extra hard to make her fathers love her, of studying late into the night trying to perfect her German accent.

FLASH!

Amalie listening to the others talk about Erik’s disgust for humanity.

FLASH!

Then it changed rapidly from memories to nightmares:

Erik looking cold and cruel, tossing her out of the mansion because she was a human and couldn’t be trusted.

FLASH!

Erik locking her up in a metal dungeon to rot in.

FLASH!

Erik never loving her as much as Laura or Phillip or any of the other mutants.

FLASH!

And lastly, a flash to Amalie’s fifth birthday party, of staring at her family and feeling like an outsider and a loneliness that nearly crushed her and then, presently, deciding tonight to leave, stumbling scared and sad in the forest.

Charles extended his thoughts out to his husband, drawing his consciousness together to show him their daughter’s fragmented fears, unsure of how else to explain what he was experiencing. Once Erik understood what he was seeing, his face was heartbroken and pale, not just at feeling all of Amalie’s emotions but at understanding that his daughter had been dealing with this the past several years. Charles whispered in her mind until she calmed and fell asleep again.

By now, the other mutants had come down to see what the commotion was about, Phillip and Laura clutching each other’s hands in fright. Erik handed Amalie’s sleeping form over to Charles before abruptly standing up and making his way through the group of onlookers and to upstairs somewhere, probably his private study, if Charles were to guess.

 _Go back to what you were doing, all of you._ Charles rarely sent out telepathic commands but he couldn’t bear their intrusive- if harmless- stares.

Raven looked conflicted before her brother sent out, _It is fine, Raven, I’ve got it,_ Instead taking Laura’s and Phillip’s hands,  leading them away, as she tried to assuage their worries.

Charles climbed the flight of stairs up to Amalie’s bedroom, dressing her in the warmest pajamas he could find and placing her on her bed, heaving blanket after blanket on top of her, and shutting the door quietly behind him.

He leaned against the door for a moment, pausing to collect himself. Overhead, he could hear loud thumps, and hurriedly raced up to Erik’s study, where the noises were emanating from.

Inside was Erik, sitting absolutely still in his darkness of the room in his leather chair, his face utterly blank, the only giveaway to his true emotions being the swirling metal objects that would crash into one another before crumpling in on themselves in a repetitive cycle of destruction.

There had only been two other times the Charles had come into contact with the type of raw rage in his husband, so powerful that he didn’t need to actively read his thoughts because Erik was projecting so loudly.

The first time was back in that inky, icy water where he had tried to raise Shaw’s submarine and was nearly going to drown himself doing so; and then back on that beach in Cuba, when he had been so ready so send those missiles careening back at the American and Soviet ships, only to be stopped by Charles’ pleading. At those times, that fury had been directed at others, at Shaw, at humanity but this time, standing here in his study, it was different.

Because all of that loathing was directed internally at himself.

“Erik-” Charles spoke quietly but his husband cut him off.

“She thinks I hate her, Charles. She thinks I do not love her because she is human.” The objects moved faster with every word.

“Love, you need to calm down before you bring the entire house down.” Charles spoke carefully.

Erik looked up, his features incredulous, “My own daughter, only ten years old, thinks herself to be worthless and unlovable and you want me to _calm down,_ Charles?!”

“Erik,” this time his tone was warning, “You need to calm your mind.”

He paused, and all at once the spinning objects fell loudly to the floor, all of the fight leaving his body, “Oh Gott, wie konnte das passieren?”

“It is not your fault.”

Erik laughed bitterly, “I am the monster in her nightmares, Charles. I do not know who else to blame for this.”

“Maybe no one,” Charles shrugged, coming to stand in front of Erik, “Maybe we are all to blame. I do not know. I just know that none of that will help the situation.”

“And what will?”

“I wish I knew,” Charles sat on Erik’s lap, leaning down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss, “But we’ll figure it out- together.”

X

The next morning found Erik and Charles standing outside of Amalie’s room.

“She is awake, you know.” Charles murmured.

“I am aware, thank you.” Erik replied tersely.

The other man sighed, “She is your daughter-”

“-who is frightened of me, Charles, who thinks I despise her.” Erik closed his eyes as if pained, and sighed.

“All the more reason why you need to go in that room, love.”

Erik nodded and opened the door; Amalie looked up at her father as he entered the room. She was still in her pajamas, sitting on the windowsill and overlooking the grounds, staring blankly out at the rain.

“Amalie-”

“I’m sorry, Abba.” Her eyes were downcast and her hands were fidgeting in her lap, her voice oddly mechanic as if she was reading lines from a script, “I shouldn’t have gone into the forest without yours or daddy’s permission.”

Erik’s eyebrows went up, “What do you mean?”

She shrugged nonchalantly but there was an apparent tenseness about her, “You and daddy always tell us not to play in there after dark and I did.”

“Playing?” Erik questioned in confusion, coming to sit on her bed, “Amalie, if you were playing, why did you have your suitcase packed, then?”

Her face ran pale, and she stuttered, “I-I was just-”

“Amalie.” She quieted at her name, “I know you were running away. And I know why.”

“How?”

“Last night, your daddy was trying to calm you down and he saw why.”

“And he told you.” It wasn’t a question, but rather a confirming statement.

“No, he _showed_ me.”

At this her eyes widened, filled with uncertainty, “Oh.

Erik stared at his daughter, sitting rigid and unmoving as if cornered by some unpredictable, wild beast that she didn’t want to antagonize; he didn’t need Charles’ telepathy to feel the outpouring of fright and nerves coming from her.  Her hands had stilled and were currently digging into her thighs, as if in an attempt to ground her. She never met his eyes.

Erik was never good with his words, and honestly never saw the use of them- he was more of a big gestures type of man, so maybe he didn’t know how to tell Amalie that everything she was thinking was wrong, at least, not in a way she would believe he actually meant it, but, maybe he could show her.

“Charles-”

His husband came into the room, “Already a step ahead of you, Erik; Amalie come here please.”

His daughter complied, going to sit on her bed, next to Erik. Charles reached out with his hands- noticing the small flinch she gave before his fingers touched her forehead- placing them on Erik’s and Amalie’s heads. Erik nodded at his husband, knowing that Charles had already put up barriers within his mind to shield his daughter from things from his past that she didn’t need to see, thing that would only terrify the girl more, signaling his ready.

Suddenly, their brains were linked, a flow of images passing back and forth.

Amalie gasped, all of her trepidation replaced by awe, her eyes unfocused as they flickered rapidly from memory to memory, “Daddy, is this what you see? All the time?”

“Not all the time, darling, but it is similar, yes,” Charles smiled at his daughter softly, “But look closely, dove.”

She nodded minutely and focused on the quick moving images.

~

The first one she saw was of Erik sitting in bed, holding a tiny baby with soft tufts of brown hair poking out of a pink blanket, standing next to Charles.

“Look at her, Charles.” His voice low and quiet.

The memory-Charles smiled, “I am looking. She is lovely, isn’t she?”

Erik looked affronted, “She’s perfect.”

His husband’s smile deepened, “That she is. But, she still needs a name.”

The other man looked up, hesitantly, “Actually, I thought of one.”

“Oh?”

“I was hoping we could name her Amalie, after-”

“Your mother.”

Erik nodded, “I thought about it when we knew she was a girl but after seeing her- it feels right, Charles.”

“Amalie it is, then.”

Erik gazed down at the baby again, looking overwhelmingly happy, “Ich liebe dich, meine kleine Amalie.”

~

Before present-Amalie could make a sound, the memory switched.

Erik was holding Amalie-then eighteen months- again, although this time they were standing in Hank’s office with Charles and Raven.

“What does that mean, McCoy?” Erik’s voice was laced with irritation.

“It means that Amalie doesn’t have the mutant gene. Which would explain why she rejected Raven’s body- it wasn’t compatible with hers.”

Raven whistles low, “So she’s-”

“-human.” Charles finished.

The room was quiet, except for Amalie’s babbling.

“Are you sure?” Erik asked.

Hank sighed, “Usually, I would say nothing is certain but in this case-”

“Okay.” Erik nodded to himself, “Alright.”

Charles looked over at his husband, wearily, “Okay?”

Erik stared back, “Okay.”

Raven looked dumbfounded, “Seriously? You’re just going to be all ‘Okay.’? After everything you have said about humans, now you’re perfectly happy to raise one? To call one your child?” the young women scoffed, “You were ready to start a war, for godsake!”

The objects in Hank’s study shook restlessly as Erik’s voice took on a cold tone, “I was young and stupid, which is dangerous enough without mixing in mutant powers. But thankfully I had Charles to stop me from becoming someone I wasn’t. And I am more than happy that Amalie is my daughter, and human or not that will never change. She will always be one of us, and anyone that disagrees can deal with me personally.”

The objects stilled and Erik left the room, signaling an end to the conversation, bouncing a giggling Amalie on his hip, “Isn’t that right, Mausi? You’re beautiful and special enough, you don’t need anything else.”

Erik’s personal thoughts did not betray his words, as he felt just as in love with the chubby little girl then as he had prior to her humanity being revealed.

~

The scenes continued to switch, only a handful of minutes each.

FLASH!

Erik teaching her German words, a smile on his face the whole time, even when she pronounces something incorrectly.

FLASH!

Erik arguing that putting Amalie in the mutant classes would only get her hurt and make her feel different, not wanting his daughter to grow up feeling like she didn’t belong.

FLASH!

Charles listening to her thoughts at two years old, rapt with fascination at how utterly brilliant his daughter is.

FLASH!

Laura vowing to punch anybody who tried to hurt her little sister, making Erik laugh with pride.

FLASH!

Phillip turning into small animals to amuse a four year old Amalie.

FLASH!

Raven braiding Amalie’s hair gently, telling silly stories to the six year old.

FLASH!

Hank giving piggy back rides to Amalie when she’s seven.

FLASH!

Charles’ fear when Amalie jumped from that tree and spending weeks trying to make synthetic wings.

FLASH!

Erik’s fear at seeing her body lying on the forest floor and mind-numbing relief at realizing she was fine.

Each flash a different point in Amalie’s life, points that showed how her fathers marveled at her and her wondrous existence, that showed how everyone else within the mansion loved and cared for her deeply, not caring in the slightest that she was a hundred percent human.

Amalie could feel tears running down her cheeks; she blinked as the images stopped and focused back on her fathers’ faces.

“Don’t you see, Amalie?” Erik smiled, his own eyes watery, “You are extraordinary. You mean everything to us. Mutant or human, that does not matter; you and your siblings are the best thing that could have happened to us.”

Charles nodded, wiping away a few stray tears, “When we look at you, we see a light in you, Amalie, brighter than any star or sun. Do you understand, now, love?”

Amalie nodded slowly, “But why did Auntie Raven say the other night that Abba still doesn’t trust humans?”

Erik took hold of his daughter’s small hand, looking ashamed and embarrassed, “Mausi, although I have come a long way, I do still have a bit to go. But you have shown me, everyday, through your kindness and your bravery that I have been terribly and foolishly wrong. You have given me hope, Amalie.”

At that Amalie openly wept, throwing herself into Erik’s arms.

He held her tight, talking through his own tears, “I am so sorry for letting you think you were anything less than all that you are.”

“Ich liebe dich Abba.”

Erik laughed, relieved, “As I do you.”

X

_A Month Later_

Amalie was sitting on the couch with Phillip and Laura watching some dumb cartoon when Charles came into the room, instantly clicking the television set off, earning him irritated objections from his children.

“Laura, Phillip, don’t you both have a class you should be in right now?”

The twins groaned, “Dad, come on, it’s a Saturday.”

“Yes, and Saturday means you” Charles pointed to Laura, “have a science class to be in. And you,” turning his attention to Phillip, “are supposed to be practicing your shifting with Raven.”

“Why doesn’t Amalie have classes?”

Erik strolled into the room, “Because she has her classes during the rest of the week. Now go, before you lose television use for the next week.”

Laura turned to her sister, “You’re so lucky, Amalie. I wish I was human.”

“Yeah, me too! You’re super lucky.” Phillip agreed.

Amalie stared at her brother in sister with confused awe as they both left for their classes.

Erik tut’ed, turning his attention to his youngest daughter, “And you.”

“Me?” She squeaked.

“Yes, you. I thought we were going to practice your German today, meine Entlein?”

“Oh yeah!” She smiled wide, taking Erik’s hand as they began walking toward the stairs to his study, “Abba?”

“Yes?”

“Could you tell me about your mama?”

Charles could see the muscles in Erik’s back tense before relaxing, turning his head to smile down at Amalie, “Well, what do you want to know, Mausi?”

“Um,” she thought for a moment, “was she a mutant like you?”

“No, she was human, like you. Actually,” Erik paused, thinking, “You are like her in many ways.”

Amalie brightened at that, “Really? Like what?”

“Well, she loved to read, just like you, and just would always tell me these fantastic stories before bed.”

“Abba, please tell me one.” Amalie pleaded.

“Well there was one-” the pair continued up the stairs, their voices getting lost in the noises of a full home.

Charles paused, closed his eyes and relaxed, relishing in a peace he wasn’t sure he would ever get. There was a time, many years ago, Charles was certain there could be no peace, no true calm for mutants, and that day on the beach in Cuba almost proved that to be true. But Erik turned back from the edge and his blind hatred and came home. They built a life, a  _family_ together, a safe haven for their children and their people. They had carved out their own paradise in this chaotic, messy world.

A noise came suddenly from a few rooms over, of what sounded like glass shattering and an ‘oh shit’, and the moment was broken, although he wasn't too upset as he had grown accustomed to living in a house packed with mutant teenagers and children.

Charles started toward the ruckus with a smile on his face, “Sean, I know you and Alex broke the purple vase- no use in hiding, lads.”

 

**_das ende_ **

**Author's Note:**

> so sorry to any native german speakers bc i def used google translate but here are what Erik and Amalie are saying:
> 
> Abba- an affectionate hebrew term for papa  
> Mausi- little mouse  
> Scheiße- shit  
> Oh Gott, wie konnte das passieren?- Oh God, how could this happen?  
> Ich liebe dich, meine kleine Amalie- I love you, my little Amalie  
> Ich liebe dich Abba- I love you, papa  
> meine Entlein- my duckling  
> das ende- the end
> 
> ~~A L S O~~  
> Out of curiosity, would anyone be up for a continuation or timestamps w/ these characters?


End file.
